


I love to go and bathe before you

by Niki



Category: The Mummy Series
Genre: F/M, First Time, non-explicit sexy times, unexpected swimming trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niki/pseuds/Niki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>One of these days, one of them <i>really</i> needed to look before they leap. This time, literally.</i><br/> <br/>Unscheduled swimming trips in the Nile bring up memories, near and far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love to go and bathe before you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



> Thank you for your lovely, detailed letter! I hope I managed to include something you'll like :)

  
_O my god, my lotus flower! … It is lovely to go out and …_  
 _I love to go and bathe before you. I allow you to see my beauty_  
 _in a dress of the finest linen, drenched with fragrant unguent._  
 _I go down into the water to be with you and come up to you again with a red fish,_  
 _looking splendid on my fingers. I place it before you … Come! Look at me!_

One of these days, one of them _really_ needed to look before they leap. This time, literally.

“I'm pretty...” Evy had to stop to spit excess river water from her mouth, “sure this was not quite the wisest thing to do.”

“Hey, we lost the guys chasing us!” Rick defended their impromptu swimming trip, even though he quietly agreed with her. 

“And all our things. Again.”

Evy looked back at the Nile, as if expecting to see her tools floating by.

“We still have my bag,” Rick said, as his straps had held, and rummaged through the watertight container. 

“Ha! We have dry clothes.”

“You just like seeing me in your clothing,” Evy accused, with a smirk. Last time they'd been in a similar situation she'd been more prone to blushing, even though... and here Rick would have blushed, if he'd been capable, heat rising in his body as he remembered how _that_ escapade had ended.

Evy was still smirking, so she was probably also thinking about it. 

“Let's, uh, find a place to catch our breaths.”

“Uh-huh.”

 

It had been another unfortunate adventure that ended in a narrow escape – whys and wherefores were not really important to the story, and as it was not his brightest moment he wasn't too keen to remember it in detail, especially as the next bit was much more important, or at least the memories more vibrant.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen Evy wet, of course, they'd only known a few days when they took their first shared dip in the Nile – and she'd been in a nightgown too – so he had fond memories of that despite the seeming hopelessness of their situation. The wet cloth clinging to her body... But they'd not been alone, and they'd had found shelter with the Bedouin soon enough, and Evy had looked stunning even covered from head to toe.

The second time had been quite different. They'd been alone – at least in the end, after their unscheduled dip in the water tank had hidden them from their pursuers (and funny how that was a common theme in their stories) – and in the rooms he'd taken to stay in until their wedding, and he'd lent her one of his white shirts, and... He'd started the fire, keeping his back turned until he heard her returning, and then he'd turned and... 

He'd known she was beautiful – from the start, even before he'd known she was smart, and passionate, and gutsy – but he'd never been as viscerally aware of her attractiveness as at that moment, seeing her in the firelight, her hair, still moist, hanging freely around her face, and her petite frame encased only in the shirt, which was clinging to her skin in patches where she wasn't quite dry yet, and it was turning almost see-through. Damn, she should never wear anything else ever again – but only in their home because no one else should see her like this.

He wanted to grab her, hold her against his body again and kiss her senseless, take her on the rug in front of the fire, touch her, kiss her from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, possess her and ravish her and...

But the wedding was only a week later, he could wait until she was his by law. She deserved as much, she deserved better than all the other women he'd ever been with, deserved respect and honour and the right to walk the aisle in white deserving it. So he cleared his throat, thought of drills and shovelling camel shit in the legion, tried to recollect being drenched in the cold water to curtail his body's reactions (which shouldn' be hard as his hear was also still dripping cold water down his neck), and turned towards his drinks cabinet.

 

They found a seemingly abandoned building that had probably housed boats at some point, enough to give them shelter to get rid of their soaked clothes and share the clean items Rick had in his bag – a shirt for Evy and a pair of trousers for Rick ("Pants, Evy, _pants_ " – "Pants go _under_ your trousers, darling").

“We have a flask of whiskey...” Rick started cataloguing their possessions but didn't get further than that before Evy exclaimed: “I knew you smuggled some with you! Sorry, dearest, go on.”

“A few packs of dried meat and nuts, a compass, a knife – your boot knife too – and that's it.”

“I think we can safely say we should turn back as soon as we can.”

Rick only stared at her.

“Yes, yes, yes, I know, but we do have choices now – the dig will not disappear even if we turn back, rearm you with guns and me with tools, maybe – heaven forbid – a guard or two.”

“Are you... quite okay?” Rick had to ask, because even though she was - sometimes - quite sensible, his wife was not known for her willingness to back down.

Her reply was even more worrying.

“Feeling my age.”

“I'm older than you!” he couldn't help but exclaim.

“Don't you feel like you're getting too old to run around like this?”

“Evy, you're worrying me.”

“Oh screw it, give me that whiskey and come cuddle me.”

 

He had been concentrating so much on _not_ making a move, he was completely taken by surprise by Evy being the bold one.

“Darling, I... are you sure?” he had to ask, even with her in his lap.

“I am in your room, wearing your clothes... even if nothing happens, everyone will believe something did.”

“Do you care about what people think?”

“No, but I... I want to know what it's like. No, no, that's not it – I want to know what it's like with you. I want you, I want you to kiss me, and I want to kiss you, and I want more. If you don't want to, we can wait, it's okay, I...”

“Oh, I want to, I so want to, that is really not the problem.”

“Then?”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to change your mind about the marriage?”

“What? Of course not!”

“So what does it matter if we have our wedding night a week early?”

She was in his arms, running her fingers over his chest, and looking at him with those deep, deep eyes and her lips shining in the fire light, and yeah, all right, she could talk circles around him in the best of circumstances, and he was first to admit this was not in any way the best of... well, maybe... pretty good circumstances right there.

And that had pretty much been that. He'd kissed her, deeper than ever, and she'd responded to his desire with equal fire and, well, the fireplace was right there. And the rug in front of it so inviting - although he doubted he'd have noticed if they were in the desert still, lying in the shade of their camels. Evy had surprised him with her passion, her eagerness to try things, and it shouldn't have, she was not a prude, she was not a timid kind of a person, not the stereotypical dry librarian, but it was still not what one would expect from a woman from a good family. Or a, yes alright, a librarian.

It may not have been the physically most adventurous night he'd ever had, but it had touched him in ways he still had not expected, even knowing how much he'd love her, how new all of these emotions were for him.

How was he supposed to let her go in the morning to spend the last six nights without her? It wasn't just the physical side either, it was the intimacy of having her there, in his living space, and he couldn't wait to share a home with her. He told her that, stumbling over his words like a nervous boy with his first love, but the understanding and joy on her face was worth it. "That's how the Egyptians got married, you know - they set up house together."

 

It was actually worrying – Evy had gone from smirkingly reminding him about their first night together to looking and sounding defeated in the space of few minutes.

“Sweetheart, if there was something wrong... “

“You'd know, I promise you. I'm not dying, there is nothing physically wrong with me. I don't even know – I was all excited about recreating that night and then... this.”

“This?”

“Our cover is a bit basic, my mouth tastes like I swallowed half the Nile, I am exhausted--- maybe when we were younger... but I'm not that young, fresh girl in your shirt anymore, and...”

“Is that all this is? Evy, you... Your eyes are exactly the same.”

“Surrounded by more wrinkles now.”

“Exactly the same, deep and brown, and your lips as moist and inviting, my shirt looks just as tempting on you as ever, it covers you completely from your neck to half way down your tempting, warm thighs, and when you lean forward, juuust a bit... like that, I can see just a shadow of your bosom, and I am dying to touch your creamy, creamy skin no less for knowing how soft it is, how warm it is, and run my hands over all that exposed flesh – and under where I can't see...” he lost the thread of words when Evy kissed him, but they kept smiling into the kiss.

“The first time we kissed... all those years ago...”

“Yes?” He had no idea what was coming, but Evy was still smiling so he played along (but kept his hands right where they were on her thighs).

“You touched my nose with yours.”

“If you say so.”

“So did you know?”

“Know what? I just felt so close to you, and so relieved we could have that so maybe I was a little playful, too.”

“That's how Egyptians kissed.”

“What?”

“The Greek kissed with their mouths – Egyptians kissed by touching noses. So I was thinking... if you didn't _consciously_ know, maybe... Because I've had this dream - when I was the princess, I had a lover...”

No, absolutely not, he was not talking about unconscious reincarnation memories, Rick decided, and unceremoniously silenced his wife of two decades with a kiss. American style.

**Author's Note:**

> Poem from http://www.perankhgroup.com/Ancient%20Egyptian%20Love%20poetry.htm (After Hermann A. Schlögl Gärten der Liebe , 2000) because that is my favourite translation.


End file.
